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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570675">Of a Feather, but a Flock Apart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare'>MathClassWarfare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Don't Mind Some Slight Disorder [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Related, Gen, POV Chocobo, Poetry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:35:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem from the chocobo post</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Don't Mind Some Slight Disorder [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Update 5/19/20: Ch 1 is the revised version of this poem, the original is at Ch 2 now.  Thanks so much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi">Akumeoi</a> for the feedback while I was revising this for my poetry class final portfolio</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Of a Feather, but a Flock Apart</b>
</p>
<p>He bounds up to the fence<br/>
with tasty greens.</p>
<p>We lift our heads.<br/>
We flap our wings.<br/>
We warble: <i>a friend!</i> </p>
<p>His feathers aren’t exactly like ours,<br/>
but we try to preen anyway. </p>
<p>He laughs.<br/>
He dodges.<br/>
He scratches our necks. </p>
<p>Then he returns to his own<br/>
flock, and we settle down again.</p>
<p>Later,<br/>
when the whistle’s<br/>
call cuts through</p>
<p>the humming,<br/>
swaying,<br/>
buzzing of our clearing, </p>
<p>we hop to it. </p>
<p>Wings pulled back,<br/>
heads dipped low,<br/>
we run,</p>
<p>Sleek and fast,<br/>
through the trees.</p>
<p>There’s<br/>
that familiar<br/>
plumage! </p>
<p>There’s<br/>
that smiling<br/>
face,</p>
<p>Seeing us,<br/>
and being seen.</p>
<p>Here are hands that pat<br/>
and smooth<br/>
and feed. </p>
<p>Here is gratitude<br/>
for the lift,</p>
<p>over the next ridge,<br/>
to the water’s edge,<br/>
the mouth of a cave.</p>
<p>There, we stop.</p>
<p>We know that we’ve<br/>
done a good job.</p>
<p>Without passengers,<br/>
we stretch<br/>
our wings. </p>
<p>The sunlight<br/>
warms our<br/>
backs. </p>
<p>Little things<br/>
scurry<br/>
in the rocks. </p>
<p>We wander.<br/>
We sip from the stream.<br/>
We wait for a friendly call.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He bounds up to the fence with tasty greens.<br/>
We lift our heads. We flap our wings. We tap our feet. </p><p>     We warble: a friend!</p><p>His feathers aren’t exactly like ours—but we try to preen anyway.<br/>
He laughs, he dodges, he scratches our necks. </p><p>Then he returns to his own flock, and we settle in again.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>When that whistle cuts through the humming, swaying, buzzing of our clearing, we hop to it.<br/>
Wings pulled back, heads dipped low, we run—sleek and fast, through the trees.</p><p>There’s that familiar plumage. There’s that smiling face—seeing us,<br/>
Being seen.</p><p>Hands that pat and smooth and feed.<br/>
Gratitude for the lift—over the next ridge, to the water’s edge, the mouth of a cave.<br/>
We know that we’ve done a good job.</p><p>Without passengers, we stretch our wings.<br/>
The sunlight warms our backs.<br/>
Little things scurry in the rocks. </p><p>We wander.<br/>
We sip from the stream.<br/>
We wait for a friendly call.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was actually an assignment for my poetry class. The prompt was a newspaper headline, which I used as the title. Nobody else in my class knew anything about Final Fantasy (?!). In the large group workshop, everyone was puzzling over what kinds of birds these were, while I giggled to myself.</p><p>(Thanks to <a href="%E2%80%9C">Chofi</a> for the feedback and suggestions while I was working on this!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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